I am Finally Going Home
by littlemissdarkprincess
Summary: It has been ten years since the tragic fire of the old Opera House and Christine finally decides it is time to go back to Paris and fix it up again. But what if the Phantom still wishes for Christine to be his? Is he even still alive? Just read on to find out. Please enjoy. This is my first fan fiction.
1. Chapter 1

It had been ten years after the incident at the old opera house I used to call 'home'. It was home in my eyes with all the singing and dancing. Everyone there was so unique and it was a place I felt I belonged. But now my home is just a pile of rubble and ash with no life or colour. It was burnt down by the cruelty of myself, my husband and the people of the opera house. It was my fault. I broke my Phantom of the operas heart, along with my own.

Now I live in a large mansion in New York. It is a wonderful place but it wasn't and never will be my home. Raoul has been good to me, treat me like a queen but still something feels missing. It has since the tragedy of my home. I sometimes dream of the night he took me down to his lair and the magical feeling of his hand gently pulling me in the right direction of the cave.

"Christine, are you coming? The ship will be sailing in an hour," Raoul said as he walked into the room. His handsome face leaned down to kiss my cheek and I smiled at his affection.

"Of course darling. They are ready back in Paris?" I asked turning back to the mirror as he leaned his chin on my shoulder.

"Yes. Everything is prepared for the reconstruction. Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked me looking at me through the mirror. I nodded.

"I am certain. The opera house should be full of colour and life. This is something I have to do," I said stubbornly. Raoul had a concerned look on his face but he finally decided to let it go.

"I will wait outside in the carriage. See you in a minute, darling," he kissed my cheek and walked out of the room. I knew he knew I still had feelings for the phantom which I cannot truthfully say it is not true.

I finally went down to the carriage to go to the ship. Me nor Raoul said a word to each other as we travelled through the crowded streets of New York. I felt bad that I couldn't love him like I should but I couldn't change my feelings.

When we arrived at the harbour, a man helped me out of the carriage and we all went onto the boat. The ship was large and held restaurants and ballrooms and everything seemed so romantic. The horn of the ship made a noise and the ship began to move. Only one thought went through my head as the ship set off on the journey: 'I am finally going home'.


	2. Chapter 2

It was very windy when we arrived in Paris. By that time it was around twelve o'clock in the morning and everyone around were either on there way home or to a café. The cold air blew through my hair and I shivered as it struck me. Raoul grabbed my hand and put his arm round my shoulder to try and warm me up. I smiled up at him.

"We need to get a carriage to go to the Opera house," I said but those words seemed to hurt Raoul. His face fell in disappointment.

"But Darling, we have only just arrived here. Can we at least have a rest first?" he pleaded. I shook my head. I lost the Opera House ten years ago and I all I wanted to do was just look and see what I could do. The builders were reconstructing it but I was afraid if they did it wrong. I wanted it to be exactly as it used to be and I especially didn't want them to find their way to the underground.

"No. You can go and rest but I want to go and make sure they do it right," I smiled gently and got into a carriage. "I will see you later, love," I said as the carriage began to move.

"Goodbye," he smiled.

I remember that I used to be shy and timid but since the fire I have grown more confident and stubborn. Maybe my character had changed because of the things I saw that night, but I don't know for certain. I waited for a few minutes until we reached the remaining dome of the opera house. I saw a few builders looking at it and walking in and out of the building. The driver helped me out and a builder walked towards me and began speaking. "You are Mrs De Changny correct?" He said pushing his hair from his face.

"Yes," I said simply.

"Madam, this is a big job. It may take longer than we thought. I mean a lot of the things inside in need of remodelling, it will take a few months just for the new furniture to arrive," he said sighing.

"Excuse me sir, but have you been to this Opera house before the fire?" I asked.

"Oh yes madam, many times. I used to work here," he said smiling slightly.

"Good. I want everything the same as it was. New furniture but I would like it the same as it was before. As for the paintings, just repaint them. The chandelier can be replaced. I would like a replica of how it was before. Can you and your men handle that sir?" I had a huge grin on my face as I remembered the way it was before.

"Yes madam. We will try our best," he said then walked away.

"Wait! Sir!" I called after him and he turned around. "Is it ok if I take a look around?" I asked.

"Yes, if you would like. All the rubble has been cleared so it should be safe," he said and walked away.

As I walked through the large oak door, I saw a blanket of ash had covered everything almost like snow but it was grey. The floor had been cleaned but the stairs had foot prints in it. I began to walk up the stairs slowly, wondering if he was still there. My foot steps echoed through the large hall.

I made my way to my old dressing room. It was strange being there again. The flowers I once held were still there and everything was in its rightful place. It seemed the only thing that had touched it was time. As I made my way to my mirror I remembered the passage way to his lair. I wanted to go down there but I decided against it since I didn't know if he was there.

I went over to my perfume and sprayed it on my wrist. It was the scent of roses, dancing, singing and everything that the Opera House was once like. "I'm almost home" I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

After looking around the ghostly halls and haunting dressing rooms I finally decided to have a look at the stage to see what the damage the fire had done. Memories flew through my mind of the opening nights and how busy it was. The singers flirting, the ballerinas warming up, the manager and owner smoking nervously and the excitement before the big show. I was determined to have it the same as it was before. I wanted then feeling of home back in my heart.

The seats that were once there were almost completely turned to ash but the stands seemed ok. As I went up the steps and onto what was left of the stage, I began to sing.

'In sleep he sang to me, In dreams he came,

The voice that calls to me and speaks my name,

And do I dream again? for now I find,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside my mind.'

I began to think about the lyrics flowing from my mouth, 'The phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind', how true that was. I was shocked when a sudden familiar voice joined into the song.

'Sing once again with me our strange duet,

My power over you grows stronger yet,

And though you turn from me to glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind.'

I looked up at the stand in which the voice was coming from. Tears streamed down my face as I saw my angel of music once again. My voice sang automatically as he grabbed a rope that still hung from the ceiling and swung down.

'Those who have seen your face draw back in fear,

I am the mask you wear its me they hear,

My spirit and my voice in one combined,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside my mind.'

He walked around the broken stage and towards me. His hand reached up and touched my cheek. His touch made the world seem non-existent, as if we were the only living beings on earth. He wiped the tears off of my cheek and carried on our song.

'Sing my angel,

Sing for me.'

And I did. I sang so loudly, I almost screamed. All my anger and regret I once felt seemed to disappear the louder I got. Eric smiled and ran his bony fingers through my hair. His green eyes stared into mine as tears streamed down my face.

'Sing my angel,

Sing for me.'

I sang a long note in which I have not been able to do since I last left him. When the note ended the room went into complete silence and he smiled warmly at me. I hugged him tightly inhaling his scent of roses and his strong arms held me gently and he seemed to do the same.

"My Christine, my cruel, cruel Christine," he whispered into my hair.

"My Angel, my evil, evil Angel," I whispered in return. "I think I am finally home".


End file.
